I’m nine days into my self-proclaimed year of making and I’ve discovered that I don’t give myself enough credit. I am a constant maker. And not in the ways that you’d traditionally think of.

My devotion to everyday making seems to need me to provide pictorial proof of daily making. I’m already an habitual poster of one picture a day to Instagram so I’ve no problem with the daily showing and telling.

The first couple days of the month were taken up with cooking our meals and catering for a special dinner we were having. I rediscovered that I cook a lot more and better than I think I do. Cooking just got taken off the taken for granted list.

Then I realized, part of my regular making is writing and publishing something new at least three times a week. I am compelled to take original photos for everything so I guess my picture-taking making has to represent the writing. That’s a two for one.

And then yesterday, my daily life hit the fan, as it tends to do with a toddler taking your full attention and then refusing to nap. In fact as she’s offering a repeat performance of that now. A poopie diaper trumps a nap and we’re done.

There was honestly and literally not a moment when I was able to think of myself or of creating or making anything. I was woken up at 5:45, robbed of her nap which then forced me to go for a ride to guarantee one, and performed all the other mundanities throughout the day that make me an uber-wife and Mom all while not allowing my brains to erupt all over the walls. But I panicked that I never “made” anything.

But then I changed my mind.

I realized I make a lot of stuff.

I make the bed.

I make the breakfast.

I make decisions constantly.

I make up for lost time.

I make sure the toenails of my children are not disgustingly long.

I make phone calls to straighten up miscommunications and make appointments.

I make sure there’s enough milk.

I make lunch.

I make the laundry clean again.

I make mistakes and then try not to berate myself for doing so.

I make my children laugh.

I make dirt disappear from the bathrooms.

I make dinner.

I make my husband feel guilty.

I make sense of toddler speak.

I make sense of the senseless.

I make my health a priority.

I make no money.

I make sure my children’s hair is washed.

I make my children feel safe.

I make a bed time snack.

I make use of what little time and brain clarity I have left to do something for me.

I make it look easy.

Making sense of my purpose on this planet is easy. It’s these children foremost now. And yet there’s so much more in my soul to make and give and get out of my life. The daily making challenge is my way of upping my consciousness of and my accountability for my creative self. A different perspective is never a bad thing. Practicing the act of creating has given me new permission to be happy.

And lastly, I realize that it’s quite alright if there’s a gap or two in the pictures to this process. That daily picture on Instagram is, in and of itself, an act of making. and this act is for me. But I may have to take some bad pictures for myself here and there to prove I did do this. Process and perfection don’t always need to share a bunk bed.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter orPinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

Almost hard to believe that it’s well past the middle of the year. And yet happily, I have continued my mindful chronicling of my everyday making. I’ve kept up with monthly making picture files with each picture dated. And I realized earlier on that I am a maker in many ways other than art and word.

I take copious pictures with the intention of using them here on the blog, there on Instagram, and sometimes on Facebook. It’s almost a bit much to keep track of. I know many are lost in the archives. But despite my lousy system, I’ve been consistently maintaining these files.

And I love sharing the pictures to give myself credit for my continued Year of Making. These are some of my favorites from June and July.

Most likely, I’ll be back with more of my pictures of my making next month in September. Enjoy the rest of the weekend. See you with a post, as always, on Monday.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter orPinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

Either way, I kept at it, recognizing and recording every act of creativity I demonstrated each day

from cooking to picture-taking to writing to arting. And I have these pictures to prove it.

I created a collage in February to commemorate my first month of making which you can see here . This project is important to me because I tend to not appreciate the cumulative effect of my life and experiences.

But this project really forces me to keep an eye the quantity of my creativity in front of me.

And I recognized that I’m an uber-creative.

So here’s to 256 more days of keeping track of my making madness because, like it or not,

I’m on a making roll that will last a year. And probably a lifetime.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

Thought I’d catch you up my lovely reader on where I am and what I’ve been thinking about.

Year of Making

I’m committed to A Year of Making. I am keeping a list and pictures of my everyday making but my documenting system needs a little tweaking. When you do all the creating and the mothering all in the same day, you need really great systems. And I just don’t always feel like I have the clarity to create those. But I keep on keepin’ on.

And speaking of goals, I put out the newsletter I’d been dragging my feet about creating and ironically did so on the day when Fiona was sick. If you aren’t signed up to receive my newsletters, you can put your name into the sign up space on the side bar of the blog. I will be sending these out more often with original extra content. We’ll talk.

Sticking My Neck Out

The daring young girl continues sticking her neck out and in less than 2 months time I’m teaching a workshop on blogging. I fought against doing this. Told the man I wasn’t his gal. He insisted I was. So I bring what I know from my personal perspective and know that at least they’ll be entertained and feel supported in their efforts.

I learned blogging in dribs and drabs with a steep learning curve. As I was driving us back home from our Valentine’s date through snow blind conditions last night, I was explaining to my husband that I had needed to find out who I was while I learned how to blog. These happened simultaneously. I was committed to being a writer and my blogging led to reading and learning and reflecting and friending. And that has all lifted me up to such a different place in my inner world. My self-esteem has risen and my anxieties have diminished. Yes I feel scared but more sure that the tasks I posted up to that goals board are the right ones for my future. I am constructing a future of work that feels good to me and that I’ll be proud of.

Feeling vs. Thinking

I intend to do more writing with more feeling instead of thinking. I will continue to be the best cheerleader I can be for me and everyone and if that means I’m a leader, I’ll learn to like that term. And I am about to really look hard at my value. Read over my stuff and decide what value needs to be offered elsewhere. Stop looking outwards in hopes that someone will come tell me why I’m here. And look hard and long at the value I have already produced and created with 575 posts.

I’d like to feel like I’m wearing a hot pink fake fur coat with a butt warmer when I’m out doing my thing being the super cool productive how-do-you-do kinda me. I want to feel safe and cozy and happy doing my thing. These have been my thoughts of recent. Thanks for listening.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter orPinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

I was born, and remain, Shalagh Hogan. Pronounced Shay-la, Shalagh is a Gaelic (Irish) name plucked from an Irish poem somewhere in the 60’s.

I grew up in Baltimore, Maryland and fell in love with Mark, a lighting director, swell guy, who became my second husband after we bought an old house on the Choptank River on the Eastern Shore of Maryland on the East Coast of the United States. I said goodbye to my city dwelling past and hello to a provincial town living future. At age 38, I had my son Eamon ,now 10, and then my second child Fiona, now 2 1/2, at 46 years old. We have three indoor cats named Pee-Wee, Mr Crackers, and Chessie. And one outdoor cat, Mrs Cheesewheat.

But Really, Who Am I

Most importantly, I am a Seeker, a Sage, an Artist, a Designer, a Mother, and a Good Friend. I am a Blogger and a Writer and I value the authenticity of my voice. I define myself equally by both my roles as Mama/Nest-maker and Artist/Writer/Creative. I strive to notice and capture the larger truths of life from my daily observations while I manage our household, mother a toddler, design events, or make pretty paper cards.

I love connecting with people, taking pictures of what I see, traveling, aesthetics and design, old stuff, words that move me, and new music. I love to hear my children giggling, kitties purring, house wrens chirping, and my boy playing piano.

My Why

My purpose, my greater Why, is to live a happy creative life and to inspire myself and others on in passionate journeys of self-discovery. Because…

No One Is Alone.

Because there’s my telling and your reading and the place in between where the knowledge and the understanding is shared, generously given and gratefully accepted.

And that is where I want to live always.

I believe in Hope, Potential, Change, Empowerment, the power of Creativity, Self-Improvement and Discovery, and the healing power of making Friendships and Connections.

If you want to know more…

On Becoming Me

I have been on a hard march to discover myself for some time now. And I can say, I’ve come a long way.

I think I have always been a writer. When I was 12, my English teacher Mrs. Johnson had us start a journal. Each of my journal entries were written in a different color magic markers. They are in a storage box and mark the beginnings of a lifetime of journaling.

Only after I shut down Bally Eden, my antiques and gift shop, and came home with my toddler son, did I pursue writing publicly. I was terrified if I took it out of my pocket, I’d kill my secret love. Instead, it grew.

I’m a recluse from a rough start finally coming out to play. My writing and my spirit have grown and to my great joy, I have discovered that the world is full of wonderful women who like me, are also searching for themselves. I’m sharing my journey here in the hope that I bring inspiration to others as well as to myself.

On Being an Uber-Creative

I also realized this year that I am an uber-creative. My brain is filled with concepts I’m pondering, Essays I want to write, pictures to be taken, and rooms to redesign. I adore paper creations like cards or decorative design elements as well as installations for events or shop windows. I love color and texture and good design. And I believe in the immense power of creativity.

I believe we have the ability to love ourselves by finding something we love in ourselves while we do it. And creativity will eradicate the mental pain we feel if we valued it enough to follow our passions.

On Being a Friend

I believe friendships are the truest mirrors to ourselves. As I gather my life lessons from even the smallest life occurrences and discover my purpose of sharing these ahas and hopes, I’ve been rewarded with is the kindness of strangers and connections that have become friendships. I never never never would have thought this would happen. Kind People are a miracle and they’re everywhere.

On Being a Mother

I have a tug of war between being a creative and being a mother. I am a maker no matter what, I decided. As a mother, I find it devastatingly sad that the act of becoming a mother can take the esteem away and make you feel like a failure. We never have to be alone or feel hopeless or powerless with the amazing communicating resources at our disposal. I suffered from Post-partum depressionafter having my first child and my esteem was low. Had I connected with the people I now have in my life, it would have been easier. Easier is always good.

And if you have questions or want to say hi, do not hesitate to contact me by way of any of the social media outlets below as all have direct messaging capabilities. Thank you for reading any of what I have written. I am humbled.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter orPinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

Shalagh and Fiona

About Me

My name is Shalagh Hogan, pronounced Shay-La. I'm the mother of a toddler, a tween, and my six year-old blog and I turned 51 this year. My hope and joy as a writer, an artist, and an uber-creative, is that by sharing my journey of self-discovery, others will gain inspiration and permission for their own journeys.

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